Save Me From the Troubles of My Own Skin
by pax am days
Summary: Dan Howell is the godfather to Becky (even though he hasn't actually seen her in god knows how long), a fourteen year old girl whose parents have been involved in a fatal car crash, (and Becky's really trying hard to not start singing 'Car Crash Hearts' at random intervals) but even though everyone, including her, thinks she's fine, you never really know until it actually happens.
1. A Metaphorical Sense of Being

**Haha lol look another plot bunny. I got inspiration from the wonderful 'My Boys' by RiverDapple, so if you are reading this then you should check that out! I wanted to write a non Phanfic a with this kind of plot, and the only way to do that, and then make it work means that he has to be a godfather, which is why it's so similar to 'My Boys'! Any other similarities unless specified are purely coincidental. Enjoy friends! **

Because, in fact, there are times when i'm not being a smartass. (sometimes), but unfortunately this is not one of them.

The typical London (British) rain which is oh-so-loudly crashing onto the windscreen is actually getting really annoying considering I'm trying to 'wallow-in-self-pity-which-isn't-actually-there' by listening to the wonder which is Fall Out Boy.

Sue me.

The rain is too loud and according to Liz 'Becky you shouldn't put both earphones in because when you do you put the music up too high and you can never hear me.' Guess why. It shouldn't be too hard.

I'm actually on my way to live with my godfather (who by the way I haven't seen in god knows how many years) and his best friend, and they may or may not be gay with each other. (I honestly don't know whether they are or not I'm just assuming).

My parents are dead.

They died in a car crash a month ago. We didn't have the best of relationships. At all. It was hate/hate and we all knew it. Eventually they stopped trying, then I stopped trying and it just fell apart and now it reminds me of some shit long name of a pre hiatus Fall Out Boy song.

Anyway we're here now and she's telling me to get out the car, and to be honest she reminds me of Effie Trinket from the Hunger Games in a completely non reassuring way. Oh well. I have boxes in the trunk that are mostly filled with cardboard tubes which contain my posters (babies) and fandom merch. Clothes too. And some shoes. Books. Just general stuff which I don't have the heart to get rid of, and will just sit on a shelf and collect dust. All together there's two suitcases and two boxes which are filled to the brim and i'm scared the boxes are going to collapse and everything's going to tip out.

The lift is nice enough and I only properly look at it when we're getting out. I'm bracing myself for the awkward 'it's fine to call me' talk which is going to happen in hushed tones outside the door before we knock on it.

Sometimes I think i'm a clairvoyant.

"If you ever need anything, or someone to talk to, you can call any time." Liz said to me as if I was some kind of delicate flower needing protection from the wind. I pulled a smile and really, REALLY hoped that it didn't look as fake as it felt.

"Thank you for being there. It means a lot to me." No it didn't. It didn't mean anything. She's a bereavement counsellor. That's what she does. She's paid to be 'there', so it's not like she actually gives a shit.

"You ready then?" She asks, stepping carefully over my navy satchel towards the door.

"I guess so." Ready my ass. She knocks the door, her knuckles turning red from the impact. Footsteps could be heard coming towards the door and I was subconsciously tapping my fingers against my thigh. As the door opened I step backwards and Liz steps forward and the guy who i'm assuming is Dan (I haven't seen him in years ok).

"Hi i'm Liz."

"I'm assuming you know that i'm Becky."

"Yup. I'm Dan. Phil's doing something in the living room. God that sounded weird. Sorry. Come in." He was as socially awkward as I remembered.

"I'm actually going get going, becuase i've got to get back for another appointment. If you ever need anything, just call."

Well that was abrupt.

Dan raised his eyebrows and I shrugged in response, Liz leaving us in a wake of confusion as she gave us an awkward wave as the doors of the lift opened.

"What the hell? She's just leaving you like that? She doesn't even know me. I could be some kind of weirdo person." Stated Dan incredulously.

"No, seriously it's fine. That's how she does things. Doesn't like to get too involved. She says it 'disrupts the settling in process'." I replied nonchalantly, shrugging and grabbing one of the boxes. Dan got a suitcase in each hand and I was kicking the other box in through the door, hoping and praying that I wasn't damaging anything.

"Your rooms over there, but we can sort that out later. I think we should sit down for a bit. Phil's in the living room editing a video."

I followed him through the door and saw Phil, who was slouching on a brown sofa. He pushed his Mac off his lap and have me a small wave.

"Hey. I'm Phil. I like lions. Rawr!" He said grinning at me, his eyes glittering.

"Lions are cool. Dogs are better though." I told him.

"Told you. Dogs are supreme Phil. You gotta deal with it." Dan told him, patting his head.

"So, uh, what exactly do you guys do? This place can't exactly be cheap." I asked curiously. I didn't think they would have normal office jobs.

"We basically have the coolest job in the world; we make videos and out them on YouTube, and we also have our own show on Radio One." Phil told me proudly. I have to admit, that is a pretty cool job.

"No way! That's so epic."

"Yeah, we get to interview all sorts of bands and celebrities. We're even good friends with one. You might not have heard of them though." Dan pushed his fringe to the side.

"Try me." I smirked at them and laced my fingers together.

"Aficionado, XVX-" listed Dan, thinking he couldn't get the better of me.

"Fall Out Boy. Oh yes. I remember. The intenterview and Teen Awards. I knew I recognised you two from somewhere."

"Who's your favourite?" Asked Dan, raising one of his eyebrows.

"Pete. It has to be the Wentz. Although, Joe tweeted me back in December. But, I don't know that you know them properly." I started at him and pointed to his phone. He grabbed it, unlocked it and scrolled down his contacts until landed it landed on Patrick.

"Look, there. Patrick." He said, pointing at the name on his contact list.

"Pfssh. That could be anyone. Text him." I raised an eyebrow at him and looked over at Phil, who was typing up a new tweet. AmazingPhil Trying to prove a point to a fourteen year old eue He chuckled to himself as he hit the 'tweet' button.

"Hey!" I poked him in the side with a finger and then went over to Dan.

"Have you sent it yet?" I asked eagerly.

"Yeah. It says 'Hey Patrick. I'm trying to persuade my goddaughter that I actually know you, and she's demanding a selfie of some sort." He crossed his arms so as to prove a point.

"Yeah, fine. Call me over when he replies Daniel." I went to turn my back on him, but as if on cue his phone vibrated, and he just looked at me and shrugged his shoulders.

"It says 'Hey Dan! Hope she's not too much trouble. We're just on our way to a concert in Michigan. Andy and Joe say hi, but Pete's eating pizza, so I couldn't get him to say anything...' and there's a picture. Believe me now?" I tried to snatch the phone off him, but to no avail.

"WOAH! WOAH! WOAH," he flipped out and threw his hands against the wall "put your hands down and leave the phone alone." I ignored him, and decided to lean forward, so now I was bakancing precariously on the top of his knees. He glanced over his shoulder at Phil, who consequently jumped over both of us, grabbing Dan's phone, and landing ungraciously on the hardwood floor.

"You really should have listened to me Bex." He said menacingly as he threw his hand over and started tickling me. I ended up landing on the floor, hitting my head with a loud smash.

"STOP! STOP! PLEASE! THIS ISN'T FAIR! PHIL! PHIL! PHIL IF YOU'RE FILMING THIS I SWEAR TO GOD..." I screamed at him.

"And that's been posted to instagram. I'm thinking that we should go back to our conversation though, because we have to be over at Radio One in two hours for the Album Chart." Phil told us. "Yeph liphen o Phil." I pleaded, my voicr now muffled because Dan had parkoured off the sofa and landed on top of me.

"I've literally just met you for the first time in years and you've already attacked me. I can tell this is the start of a great relationship." I managed to say as I wriggled out from under Dan's legs and sat up against the bottom of the sofa.

"I feel like my personal space bubble has been breached." Stated Dan eloquently, reminding me of Mycroft Holmes. Mark Gatiss though. Definately not Stephen Fry. Although if you ask me, the whole Robert-Downey-Jr-as-Sherlock-Holmes sequence was terrible. Give me Benedict and Andrew any day.

"I think that's the most active you've been in weeks." Dan gave him a shove in response.

"Yes, well, moving on from the subject of my fitness, we were wondering if you would want to come on our show. I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but we thought it would be a good way to introduce you to the Phandom." Asked Dan.

"Spelt with a 'Ph' not an 'F'." Phil told me, tapping my shoulder to get my attention.

"Who thought up of that one then? Ph, you can use that instead of f can't you. Phandom, Phans, Phan. Phan. OH MY GOD PHAN AS IN THE SHIP NAME! I never knew that was you two. Doesn't it annoy you though? I see stuff everywhere about people complaining about 'obsessive Phan shippers'. It must suck," I said, biting my lip. "And yeah, the radio show sounds cool. I can just be on my phone the whole time right?"

"Actually no. The whole show's on camera and people livestream it from the BBC Radio One website." Phil said as he threw back Dan's phone.

"Do I have to wear anything fancy?"

"Nah. What you're wearing is fine. We just wear jeans and a top. Usually." Dan looked over at Phil and scowled.

"You said you wouldn't complain about my nebula jacket Dan!" Phil whined from the other side of the room.

"What, like the jacket in that Animal Crossing game? I don't complain 'cause Pete wore one once." I announced, sounding like a crazy stalker.

"Jesus Christ, do you keep tabs on everything he wears or something?"


	2. Folie a (Trois)? Because there's three

The one thing I noticed about him was his dimples. If the Phandom was as crazy as I thought it was, then they would probably have dimple porn. I mean, Benedict has eye porn, Patrick has hat porn, but don't even get me started on Supernatural.

"Actually, I'm not that bad. My best friend's sister gets told off for buying all her clothes from Top Man so she gets the same stuff as you Phil!" I grinned at him innocently as he freaked out.

"Daniel, your goddaughter is never, _ever _allowed to have her best friend's sister over." He told him.

"She'd probably die of hyperventilation or something." I told them.

"That's what people _do_." Shouted Dan in all seriousness.

"You need some work on the accent, but apart from that, it's pretty good." I told him, laughing at his expression. It wasn't that surprising; practically everyone watches Sherlock. It's probably a sin not to..

"YOU WATCH SHERLOCK?" he shouted at me. Instead of replying, I ran out of the room, grabbed a box marked 'Sherlock' and came back in.

"Yes. Obviously." I leant down and ripped the cardboard open, ruining the box and pushed the torn remains of it toward the two.

"How much stuff have you got?" Phil asked curiously, peering inside. I batted his hand away and started to take the stuff out myself.

"Three posters, one signed by Uma, Rupert, Martin, Mark, Andrew and Ben, four tops, a pillow case, a bracelet, a cloth bag and these awesome Johnlock wedding rings; one says Watson and one says Holmes. My friend Paige has the Watson one, and I've got the Holmes one." I took everything out of the box, unfolding and looking at each item, before refolding and putting them into a small pile.

"How much was everything?" asked Dan, picking up the pillowcase.

"A lot. I've collected all my fandom stuff over the years. God, band merch is the worst. Fall Out Boy has loads, but it's freaking twenty five pounds for one t shirt. It's all I've asked for Christmas for at least three years." I sighed, slouching back and grabbing my phone. No new messages. I sighed again and slapped it onto the coffee table.

"What?" asked Phil, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just proof of my non-existent social life. Anyway, I think I should probably go unpack everything. Just shout if you need anything." I told them, walking out towards my new room.

I didn't have an overly large amount of stuff, and all the clothes were already folded.

The first box was by 'decorations' box. I had my string of fairy lights, my desk organiser, and this weird 'R' thing from Joy. I had my stereo and put it on top of the drawers, plugged it in and put my iPod in. I just decided to hit 'Shuffle'. There was a 25% chance it would be Panic!, and 25% chance it would be Fall Out Boy and 50% chance it would be something else.

I grabbed some blutack and stuck the posters all over my room. The bed was already made with fresh navy blue linen, and the hum of the London public could be heard from outside. I ripped the brown packaging tape through the seams of the cardboard boxes and sorted my clothes into piles.

General tops in one pile, trousers in another, fandom stuff in another and everything else could be thrown into a drawer because to be honest I couldn't care less.

"Phil!" I shouted. I desperately needed the WiFi password. My life depended on it.

"What? You almost ready to go?" Shit, shit, shit. I had completely forgotten about the Radio show.

"Yeah, but what's the internet password?"

"Come down and I'll give it to you!" That was one of the things I hate. Whenever you go down to get a password or something the person takes whatever you're putting the password in, and gets all grabby with it.

I grabbed my phone and ran into the living room, putting my Converse on as I ran.

"Right, what's the password?" I asked hurriedly.

"It's ironiclion. Dan picked it. Obviously." He rolled his eyes at me and grabbed his coat. Seriously though, what kind of name is 'ironiclion'? do lions even possess the ability to be ironic? I guess I will never know.

"Phil! Bex! Let's go, we've got like ten minutes to get there!" shouted Dan from the bottom of the stairs.

"WAIT WAIT WAIT!" yelled Phil, as he ran down the stairs. We ran out the door, and had to sprint to get there in time. We almost got run over multiple times, and got looks from old women hobbling around with their dogs. They shouldn't be out this late.

As we got it, I got some glances from the various DJs hovering in the foyer, but couldn't I didn't really get a chance to look around, as the lift had just come down, and Dan was holding it open, my ankle was spazzing out again and I couldn't run that fast.

"Right, don't do anything rude, don't swear and don't say anything politically incorrect, and you'll be fine." Dan briefed me, ushering us all out of the lift as it arrived at our level.

Well fuck.

I followed them over to the desks as they opened the door to the studio where Jameela was introducing us as if on cue. Well, I guess it was. When they sat down, I sat down, and I just generally copied them.

"And look! It's the Jay-Z and Beyonce, and, look, it's the Jay-Z, Queen B AND Blue Ivy of the Radio." Jameela announced to everyone that wasn't watching online. Why did I agree to this? I was going to be attacked by a gang of vicious fangirls who have the grammar skills of a five year old.

"Heey Jameela! How's the show been?" asked Phil, waving over to the camera, Jameela giving me a sideways glance. I never liked her anyway.

"It's been really good so far, but I think the main question is who's the visitor?" she raised her eyebrow and suddenly everyone turned to look and me.

Great.

I'm pretty sure that was my cue to speak.

"I'm not going to say _exactly _who I am yet, 'cause that's for the show, but what I can say is that I was indirectly mentioned on Twitter earlier, put on Instagram, and that the Phandom will probably explode." I told her, glancing over at Dan who was giving me an indiscreet thumbs up.

"Everyone's just gonna have to keep on listening or watching our show later!" Phil told everyone. They promptly started the album chart, and it was then that Jameela started the awkward questions.

"Seriously though, who exactly are you? We were told that you were coming in, but that's it."

"Oh, don't worry, it's fine. Dan's my godfather, and my parents, uhm, passed just over a month ago. He offered to take care of me so I didn't have to go into care." I told her quietly, picking a hangnail on my thumb.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. How are you dealing with it?" she asked, not seeming at all uncomfortable. Rather blunt wasn't she? I admit, from when I had listened to the chart show, she had never been afraid to voice her feelings.

"Oh, you know, five hour doses of Tumblr, rewatching Sherlock and listening to all the Fall Out Boy albums in chronological order, so, in fact nothing too different from my daily schedule. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go for a sec." I got up from my chair, seething silently. Fucking bitch. She didn't even know my name, and she's all in my face about 'how I'm coping with my parents death'.

I walked over to where Dan and Phil were sitting, muttering curses under my breath.

"What happened?" asked Phil, with genuine concern on his face.

"Jameela Jamil is an ass that's what." Dan told him darkly.

"I mean, she doesn't even know my name for god's sake, and she's interrogating me over my parents death Jesus Christ. I mean, actually, Dan, you don't even know my name." I told him, flopping onto the sofa outside the studio.

"Rebecca Jade Brighton."

"Obviously you saw my birth certificate. No one knows my middle name." Well, apart from a few friends.

"I gave it to you." He told me.

Whut.

"What?" Phil was really confused, and it was adorable because I don't think any of us had a clue what was actually going on, but his reaction was the funniest.

"Is there any other life secrets that I should know about before we go on national radio?"

"Probably."


	3. Immortal Humiliation via 84 Tumblr Gifs

I really don't think I'm ready for this but screw it, I'll try. After Phil pressed the button that introduces the show, the cameras were turned on, and we all waved at the camera.

"Hey everyone!"  
"Hi"

"Hey!"

We all shouted different greetings, and tweets were flooding in, asking about who the 'newcomer' was. They both did the usual introducing thing, and then I went to introduce myself.

"Okay, hi everyone! I'm Becky, and Dan is my godfather, and I'm living with him and Phil now, and no, Phan is not real. And I like bands and stuff." Dan hit a switch and some shitty song by The Vamps came on, and to be honest I was disappointed with the nation's music choice.

"Okay Dan, what actually happens on the show? Because I don't actually know." I spun around on the chair, nothing I was probably going to start feeling nauseous but oh well; I was never one for thinking of the repercussions of my actions.

"People usually call in, about our 'Rehab topic' which is when either Phil or me tell everyone about something that happened to us this week, and we think of something to talk about. Then, 'internet news' which is what it says on the tin. There's other stuff too, but we'll come to that when it happens. Just go with it and you should be fine." He put his headphones back on as the song ended, and Phil held up the sign saying 'Request a song'. Tweets, text messages and Facebook messages were coming in the hundreds, and I was wondering how they kept up with it.

"So, Phil. What's our rehab topic this week then? I'm sure the nation's fangirls are dying to get in contact with us." Dan rolled his eyes at the camera and I just laughed. Anyone who didn't know who he was would probably think he was a massive asshat.

"Right, so on Tuesday I was on my way to Oxford Street, and I saw this person, and I swear, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but she was wearing bright blue shiny leggings, a bright pink crop and a leather jacket. Just, what? I know it's March, but it's not summer yet, and just because it warm enough to not have to wear, like, furs whenever you go outside, is that _really_ necessary? So, we want to know, what are some of the craziest things that you've seen people wearing?" Phil said. The lights in the studio suddenly changed colour, and the phone lines started going crazy.

"Can I just say that cosplay doesn't count, because cosplayers are really cool and everyone should strive to do a cosplay at least once in their life." That is a true fact. My parents never knew about my internetting and fandoms, because it would have been safer not to tell them. I never got in trouble for it, because they never found out thank god.

The phone lines were blaring, and after finishing the song requested on Twitter, Phil picked up the phone, and started talking to a girl who had seen some guy walking on the street dressed up as Octodad. Where the fuck did this girl live?

"And what song would you like?" asked Phil, Dan bracing himself for something mainstream with lyrics that have probably been burned into people's minds, and not because they wanted them to be.

"Could I have Sing, by My Chemical Romance please." She asked, her innocent voice ringing in my ears, and FUCK, I have problems listening to that song. It's not that I don't like them; I freaking love them, it's just that I can't listen to that song without sobbing. Like, full blown crying.

I had two options.

Run out of the room, claiming that I have a hyperactive bladder, because I went to the bathroom no more than ten minutes ago.

Brave it out, and try to cry as little as possible.

The latter seemed less embarrassing, so I picked that one. I'm not even sure why I cry. Maybe it's the video, maybe it's the fact that they've broken up, maybe just the 'wow Gerard Way's voice is fucking incredible.'.

Either way I was going to cry, and there's nothing that anyone can do about it.

The song played, and my facial expression was probably weird as hell, and I was trying to suck my tears back into my tear glands, but to no avail.

I completely lost it at the chorus.

Full blown sobbing, body shaking and spastic guttural noises.

Shitshitshitshit.

Heavy breathing clearly wasn't working, and I threw myself at Dan, had had been giving me sideways glances since the show started. We could both feel the wet patch slowly growing on his shoulder, and Phil looked extremely startled, and I swear I was trying so, so, _so_ hard to just stop, but it's hard.

"Becky, oh my god, are you okay? Was that not a good thing to play? Do you know that girl? Did you see a tweet or something? Oh my god!" Phil was really sweet when he was worried, and the song was at '_cleaned up corporation progress, dying in the process'_, and I took a deep breath and looked them and laughed.

"JESUS CHRIST BECKY! No, actually what just happened?" Dan was spinning in his chair, and Phil was looking through messages and getting a song up, buying us a few minutes for me to tell them what just happened.

"Um, it's not you, seriously it's not. It's just, oh my god this is so stupid, Ican'tlistentothatsongwithoutcrying." I rushed out, trying not to laugh.

I take it back. This is a lot more degrading than 'admitting' to having hyperactive bowel syndrome.

"What?" murmured Dan, his eyes flicking over to the producers. I sighed and then attempted to tell them what happened with spacing between the words.

"I can't listen to that song without crying okay? I don't know why, so don't ask, but I just can't." I sighed, and saw all the tweets coming in, asking if I was okay.

"Jesus. I thought something _bad _had happened. Phil cries whilst listening to Muse all the time. It's fine." Dan smirked at Phil, who was rolling his eyes at us from in front of the computer.

The song stopped, something new by the Arctic Monkeys, and before they could say anything, I beat them to the microphones.

"Okay, some of you watching online probably saw me basically sobbing whilst Sing was playing, and if you didn't know that was happening, well, now you do. I'm completely fine and you guys don't need to worry."

**WOW THAT'S A REALLY SHITTY PLACE TO END. Sorry. It's just that I'm going away on holiday for two weeks in a few days, and my computer Is pretty much dead, so this is the last update for a while!**


	4. Chapter 4

This is just an A/N

So, we have a minor problem.

I wrote the majority of the next chapter on my friends Ipad.

…My friend is in Jamaica.

So, in the meantime I will write the next few chapters, and we will actually have a regular updating schedule for a while.

In the meantime, you guys can:

Read 'Sometimes Bad Things Happen' by Ms Moonshoes Potter

Follow me on Tumblr, at fallout-gays

Re watch Dan and Phil Videos.

Throw bombs at me.

(I'm sorry)


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